Riots! Ain'tcha sick of 'em?

You will be surprised to learn that a man like me, possessed of far too many opinions about everything, has very little to say on the Schlock-Horror-Sensation of riots in our cities.  There have been riots in our cities since medieval times.  Shakespeare writes of them frequently - and like the good, money-grubbing, little bourgeois that he was, he was "appalled", "disgusted", "shocked" and so on, in the vernacular of our useless politicians and editorial writers.  In fact, Shakespeare always understood that when you have crowds of pig-ignorant, uneducated  morons their collective intelligence is best described as 'dumb and dumber'.  Of course, today everyone and his uncle are reaching for ready-made, hand-me-down commentary which can be roughly summed up as 'Stop the Cuts' if you are on the Left, or 'Hang 'em and flog 'em' if you are on the Right'. 

So, you ask as you sit at the feet of your Master, what does the High Lord Duff have to say?  Not much, is my reply.  The increase, perhaps the 'multiplication' is a better word, of the feral class which has "grow'd like Topsy" has gone hand in hand with the growth of government which began in real earnest when that old fool Beveridge set in train the welfare state which, with an inevitability that he himself foresaw, soon turned into a train wreck.  That is not to say that there was no such thing as a feral class before.  In Victorian capitalist times as Dickens (amongst others) tells us it was alive and thriving but the difference was that the bourgeoisie of those times dealt with it much better, by which I mean, of course, much more harshly!  Today, we have all been 'feminised' and the motherly instincts of 'nurturing and caring' are guides to all public policy.  So now the 'feralists' fear nothing and nobody!  And nor, might I add, do any of the soppy-soft progressives who have eaten into our body-politic like maggots because by and large they live well away and out of the reaches of the mob. 

Today I listened for some considerable time to our elected representatives in Parliament - yes, yes, I know, such an act was above and beyond the call of duty but I'll do anything for you, my readers - as, one by one, they stood up to deplore the behaviour of yobs and vandals pillaging their neighbourhoods and not one of them mentioned the parliamentary pillaging that they themselves indulged in for years and years - and still do, is my guess!  They were, and are, our leaders, sent to parliament with a sacred trust amongst which is the duty to lead decent lives of probity as an example to us all.  And yet there, sitting smugly on the green benches, was the disgusting and stupid Chris 'Y-fronts' Bryant.  I failed to spot Chris 'Lesbian-Straightener' Huhne, or David 'I did it for my Mum' Laws who is about to be invited back into the cabinet but no doubt they were lurking somewhere off-stage.  How dare they indulge their righteous, hypocritical anger at some amoeba-brained yobs who saw an opportunity to get something for nothing when so many of them did exactly that on every available opportunity?

Cameron, of course, came over like the misbegotten off-spring of a liaison between the Archbishop of Canterbury and Judge Jeffries.  His little mouth pursed with anger (I was about to write 'fake anger' but it was probably real enough because he had been forced back from his Italian hols) and his chipmunk cheeks puffed out with pomposity, he threatend this and promised that and anyone with more than three brain cells who has been conscious during the last 12 months knows that it will not happen!  Even if he means it, his mostly useless colleagues, his subversive civil servants, the not-fit-for-purpose non-Prosecution Service, the greedy, overpaid and incompetant leaders of local authorities, and the ranks of the politically correct Chief Constables will boot his balls (pun intended) far away into the long grass.  They know that public anger will soon dissipate as 'The People' turn once again to their main interest, the Premier League, and all will be forgotten - until the next time.

And talking of 'The People', that means you - and you - and you over there trying not to look guilty.  Did you behave yourself and stick together as a family?  Did you instill discipline in your children and teach them right from wrong?  Did you get involved with your local school and insist they do the job they are paid for?  No?  Thought so!  You and millions more just like you.

(I have just realised that for a man with "very little to say" on this particular topic I have actually said quite a bit.  Oh well, like bores everywhere, once I get going . . .)

 

Comments

[dearieme]

The fault lies less with Beveridge, more with Attlee. That's why Mrs T used to carry a copy of Bev's report around in her handbag so that she could show people what the old boy had actually said.

Doncha miss her?

[JK]

Having paid the most diligent attention to your every word, High Lord Duff - I have to ask: how's your Happiness Index these days?

Incidentally, here in Arkansas we've discovered it's far more effective to flog prior to hanging.

[David Duff]

My God, DM, then it really must have hurt if she sloshed you with her handbag. As for missing her, "Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive"!

JK, I haven't had a reading on my Happiness Index since 'that woman' left the stage

[Andra]

JK: Arkansas eh? Is this Okie country? Grapes of Wrath stuff?
Do you have a still in the back yard?
I am fascinated and need to know more about you.
Please tell all.... OK. not all, but some.

[JK]

No Andra. Oklahoma is west of me. But my neigbors each have stills. I brew beer. Well - probably not the kind of beer you're likely familiar with. Mine usually comes out around 80 proof (that'd be 40% alcohol in your neck of the woods). The stuff outta the stills runs clear as can be - until it hits the bloodstream.

Lemme have a few minutes, I'll round up a link or two.

This is from the county in which I reside:

http://exploreizard.blogspot.com/

Then, Arkansas in general:

http://portal.arkansas.gov/aboutArkansas/Pages/arkansasPhotoGallery.aspx